To A Love Story Never Told
by delilahbelle
Summary: From waiting for a war to end, to marriage, to children, a collection of one-shots of Red and Kitty's life together.
1. Alive or Dead

Author's Note: _A little background_: My obsession with quotes has reached critical levels, and as I was going through my favourite love quotes, I realised several of them could apply to Red and Kitty (my obsession with the show carries over to every aspect of my life evidently). So, seeing as I like writing stories more than I probably should, I thought I'd write a Red and Kitty story with a quote as a basis for each chapter. It won't be very long, maybe five or six chapters, and it will be at random times during their life. Sound like a good idea? Hope you think so. _It'll be updated at random, but I hope to finish it by Valentine's Day._

Also, I assume (I don't quite remember from the show, but I thought there were references) that Red fought in the Korean War. According to my pseudo-research, this makes sense. I don't know exactly what happened during the war, and I hate reading about wars, so I skimmed the info and just assumed that 1952 was a good time to set this specific chapter. If I'm wrong at all, please tell me.

Anyway, please enjoy, and feel free to drop a line.

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Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire. -Francois de la Rochefoucauld

...

Summer 1952

Another letter from another admirer. Kitty tosses the letter on her desk while she goes through the mail. It's sweet to read the romantic attempts of her suitors, but she can't bring herself to think much of the men. It's nice to know she's so admired and adored, but she knows they can never possess her heart. Her heart belongs to only one man, and she doesn't see that changing.

Her friends think she's silly to wait for Red to come back from the war. They remind her that there's a chance he might not come back at all, but she ignores that. His letters are still coming, one after the other, and that's all she needs for now.

Speaking of letters, there's one from Red. Her heart leaps up in her throat and she drops the other mail on the floor to hastily tear open the envelope.

As usual, he doesn't mention the war. He tells her he misses her and that he loves her and that he hopes she hasn't found someone else yet because then he wouldn't have anything to come back home for. She smiles when she reads that—even though it's in every letter he sends, she likes knowing that he's looking forward to seeing her again. There's a couple of lines about his buddies and some well wishes and the like. The letters are never long—he doesn't have the time and he's always a quiet one—but she cherishes it anyway.

There's a box of these letters under her bed, carefully organised by date, and she adds this one to them. She reads them when she's lonely and she misses him or when there's a gap between letters and she gets worried. She rereads them to remind herself that he is strong and stubborn and he would not die on her.

It's hard sometimes. The stories she reads about the war are terrible, and the tally of the causalities frightens her. There are nights where she wakes up from nightmares of him dying, one more statistic that most everyone will forget. She cannot understand why war appeals to him, especially after those nights.

He's killing her, just like he's killing those Koreans, and although it's unfair, she can't help but feel that way. It doesn't matter how many times he reassures her he'll be fine or how many times she reminds herself that he's tough, there'll always be deaths and there'll always be fear in her heart.

But she pushes it aside for now. She always does when he writes. She forgets it long enough to compose a reply that doesn't involve begging him to come home and be with her.

She picks up the mail from the floor and deposits it in the kitchen where her parents can deal with it later. She throws away the letter from her admirer and sits at her desk with her stationary to tell him once more that she loves him and she'll be waiting here until he comes back.

She leaves out the "alive or dead."


	2. Worthwhile

Author's Note: Wow, that was a good reception! I hope I don't disappoint with this chapter. Thank you to all who read and, especially, reviewed. Please enjoy this chapter.

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I love her, and that's the beginning of everything. -F. Scott Fitzgerald

...

Red never wanted to fall in love.

When he was young, he would dream of war—the exact opposite of love to most people. He would dream of honour, of coming home a modern day hero. Like his father was. He wanted to be like his father—stoic and proud.

His grandmother used to pat him on the head when he said that. She'd tell no man could be stoic all the time, and pride is something one must give up at some point in their life, if only for a little while. After all, pride has no place in love.

So he resolved never to fall in love. (His grandmother laughed at that too, saying no one could stop a heart in love). He liked his pride. Letting it go was something he couldn't imagine ever doing. What would happen to him then? He'd become a pansy, a sissy boy spouting out love poems and crying about everything that was the slightest bit upsetting.

But of course, his grandmother was right. A heart in love can't be stopped, and pride must bow down to love at times. After he met Kitty, he had to swallow his pride so many times. He had to tell her he loved her, he had to fix things when they fought.

Don't get him wrong—he tried to hold onto his pride. He tried, and he failed, because inevitably, it led to her tears, and his heart would break. He tried telling her once that she was overreacting, but after a week of stony silence from her, he had to beg under her window like an idiotic Romeo.

It was then he realised that maybe, just maybe, letting go of pride—some of the time—wasn't a bad thing. Her beautiful smile and the warm kiss he received certainly made it worthwhile. The way she cuddled up close to him and leaned her head against his shoulder made his heart flutter happily.

It's sickening to him, really. Love is... well, it's the opposite of what he's always wanted. His petty high school romances taught him that. Doing anything for a kiss is a dumb thing to do; add emotions into the mix and it was a recipe for disaster. Heartache is an unnecessary, avoidable pain, after all.

Except, it wasn't avoidable. No matter how much he told himself it was foolish to fall for a drunken beauty, the night he met Kitty changed his mind forever. It made every single modest moment worth it. It made dressing up in a monkey suit and standing before a bunch of relatives he didn't care about worth it. The joyous smile he saw when she walked down the aisle made every single thing worth it.

It made life worth it.


	3. Fear

Author's Note: This was inspired by something other than the quote. A few months back Shea posted a story using the book _The Things They Carried _by Tim O'Brien, which prompted me to read the book. Well, part of it. I read the first few sections before deciding I wasn't ready to read it just yet (it was too depressing), but the first section, named the same as the book title, inspired this. I think I might have used some of the same phrases, but I turned the book back into the library, so I don't know. If I did, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to. Please enjoy and feel free to leave a review.

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The more connections you and your lover make, not just between your bodies, but between your minds, your hearts, and your souls, the more you will strengthen the fabric of your relationship, and the more real moments you will experience together. -Barbara de Angelis

...

It starts a month into their marriage.

They are tangled up, warm naked bodies pressed together, her head on his chest, listening to the steadying beat of his heart. The only sounds are the sounds of their breathing, going from panting to normal, and the sound of the wind rushing through the trees outside.

Then he starts speaking.

At first, the words are so soft she doesn't even hear them, and when she does, she can't make them out. But his voice steadies, rising to a barely audible, and she listens closely.

He tells her about the war.

He weaves a fearful tale for her of gunfire, dead bodies, and blood. He talks about dead friends, injuries that will never be recovered from, and how sometimes he never wants to see a gun again. He tells her about the shame and the fear. So much fear. Fear of failing, of dying, of _not _dying. How you had to confront mortality but not let it limit you, but you couldn't do that with bullets flying you at while you're praying to God to give you one more day or to just make it quick and painless.

At first, bile rises up in her throat and her vision swims at the vivid picture he paints. But she takes a deep breath and gathers her strength. She stays silent as he talks, knowing this is painfully hard for him. She knows he does not like confessing that he is only human and therefore has all those human emotions. She knows that he is giving up his strength and letting her carry him during these times.

It goes on for a year's time. Once a week, he'll turn his eyes away from hers, and he'll speak. He'll talk about the silly childhood terrors and the anxiety of growing up. He tells her he's scared of failing her as a husband, as a father when the time comes. Everything he won't confess during the day, he confesses in the dark.

At first, he would be embarrassed come morning, wondering what her reaction would be. But he's learned that she won't make fun of him for those moments of humble humanity he tried never to display.

She also never tells him how much his confessions mean to her.


	4. Starting Forever

Author's Note: So much for finishing this by Valentine's. Oh well. I hadn't even realised it was nearly March yet. Not sure I'm thrilled with this chapter, but I don't hate it. Thank you to my readers and reviewers.

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Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be. -Robert Browning

...

He hates himself tonight.

Not for any real reason—at least, not for any reason _Kitty _would think real, should he tell her what exactly has him pulling at his tie. He hates himself because of the fear that stills his hand every time he reaches into his pocket and closes his finger around the little blue box there.

They have been together for quite some time now, and he has begun to entertain thoughts of them lasting for... well, however long they might live. He certainly doesn't mind that at all, although the knowledge that it's not exactly a manly thing to think keeps him from saying it out loud.

But privately, he entertains the thoughts of seeing her go grey and wrinkled, and it holds an appeal he cannot—and secretly does not want to—deny. So he buys a ring—a cheap one, but he'll be sure to replace it with another one once he gets the money—and puts it in one of his mother's old jewellery boxes because he _needs _a box—that's just the way it's done—and he carried it around with him, waiting for the right moment.

When the right moment is, though, he can't tell. But he's getting tired of waiting, so tonight will have to be right...

Unless things go wrong.

There's always a chance she'll say no—a slim chance, he thinks (or rather hopes)—but a chance nonetheless, and it's that small chance that stops him from pulling the box out of his pocket. He trails behind her, listening to her chatter about something or another—maybe he should pay attention—and he _panics._

Dignity, he feels, has abandoned him. He has gone through _war_, for God's sake, and he can't even ask a woman—a woman he loves, and who loves him in return—to marry him. He's too busy being brutally rejected in his mind.

Tonight's the best chance, he thinks. After all, it's the kind of night people always call romantic, and besides, they ate dinner at a classy place. The night couldn't have gone better if he had planned it this way.

Now, for the gathering of courage...

When he does get her attention and get down on one knee—before he even registers what he's doing, for that's the only way he'll do it—and ask the question with barely concealed hesitance, he waits for her answer for only five seconds, but those five seconds tick by so slowly he's sure he's kneeling for five weeks. Finally, the word "yes" slips out of her mouth, and although she says more, he doesn't hear it. He slides the ring on her finger, jumps up, and kisses her almost possessively, the weight he's been carrying in his chest suddenly disappearing.

And so starts his forever.


	5. Disillusions & Truths

Author's Note: I'm sorry about the lack of the updates. Please forgive me.

* * *

More marriages might survive if the partners realised that sometimes the better comes after the worse. -Doug Larson

...

When she thought about her wedding day, when she was a child, she imagined it as very grand. A ball gown dress with a ten foot train, diamonds at her throat. A huge reception with dozens of candles, expensive champagne, crystal flutes, twenty-dollar-a-head dinners, and everyone she ever knew.

The reality was that she got her dress on sale because it was too small to fit anyone else. It didn't have a ten foot train—or any train at all—but it did puff out from layers of tulle, almost like a ball gown. They had no champagne, only white wine, which Red complained about, and the glasses were bought for ten dollars at a speciality store. The reception, which only their family and very close friends attended, was at her parents' house, catered by family donations.

Their marriage wasn't exactly what she envisioned either. She expected things to settle when they married. She expected their fights to disappear completely, or lessen at the very least, and she expected him to—and she didn't know why, not then and certainly not now—to bring her flowers every once in a while, for no special reason, other than she was special. She expected that would easier, more loving, more cemented, and the truth was a bitter pill to swallow.

They still fought. And the fights were worse. They fought over money and bills and when to have children. They fought over jobs and the amount of time they spent together. They fought over her cooking and his hours and their in-laws. And they fought. And they fought. And—

She couldn't say that one day the fighting magically stopped. Because it didn't. And she didn't expect it to. She didn't expect to do anything but fight with him any more. So it came as a shock when the fighting began to lessen. She was worried at first, thinking it meant—well she didn't exactly know what she thought it meant. Maybe that he just didn't care any more.

But she realised that the worst had passed—for now, at the very least. They didn't have to fight about something they had talked to death. He would just have to eat her cooking, because he couldn't cook and they couldn't afford to go out, and she would try to learn some new techniques. She would have to get a part-time job unless they wanted to count every penny, so now clearly wasn't the time to have children. And they wouldn't be able to spend every waking minute together like before he started working. Their respective in-laws and parents would come to visit, and they would just have to put up with them, because it wasn't worth ruining their new, tender marriage because of their parents.

And no, things weren't always going to be easy. And no, they weren't going to always agree. But differences could end in a compromise, and trying to change the unchangeable would only lead to unhappiness. And with those bridges gaped and crossed, things settled down into tolerable, then into happiness.

And it was even better than before.


	6. Boys Will Be Boys

Author's Note: I'm going to try to finish this—it won't be more than ten chapters. I'd like to finish this before the new year, but y'all know how good I am at updating. This is in reference to the winter episode in the first season (the one where they go to Jackie's ski cabin) and Kitty tells Kelso Red once cheated on her. (I think I have the name right; I can't find my discs to check). Thanks for the support though!

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The best thing about loving and being hurt is that you get to know what true love really is. For as Gold is tested in fire, so will love be perfected in pain. -Marvin Jay M. Torres

* * *

It's cold outside, and it's cold in her heart, and she's not sure if she can withstand the cold any longer. She rubs her hands over her arms, trying to give herself some warmth. She sinks down on the bench outside, watching as people darted around, glancing up at the sky every so often to see how much time they had before the inevitable snowstorm. But Kitty doesn't really pay attention to the sky; she's too busy reliving the image of Red kissing horse face Lynn Taylor. Passionately. Much more passionately than he ever kissed her.

What does that mean? He was practically sucking the other woman's face off—does that mean he finds her more attractive than Kitty? Kitty isn't used to feeling worthless but the feeling is settled deep into her bones now, and she wonders what it will mean for her relationship with Red. Her friends and older cousins all tell her that men always cheat and it means nothing, nothing at all, and she should just turn a blind eye to it because he would probably just end up dumping her if she said anything. They told her it was understood in relationships—the man cheated and the woman just went on with life as if nothing was wrong, probably because she wasn't supposed to think anything was wrong.

But Kitty does think something is wrong, and if this is the way it feels to find the man you love in the arms of another woman, she never wants to feel it again. She hates this feeling—dread, hurt, anger, fear, and bitterness wrapped up in one another and curling through her heart and branching out to every part of her body. She's shaking and suddenly, she's not sure it's the below freezing temperatures or the impending snow. She's sure it's just the betrayal working its way deep inside of her heart.

She takes a deep breath and tries to think of the situation rationally. But there's no room for rationality in her head right now, so she stands and stumbles through the crowd. Her friends are waiting for her at the end of the street, Anne in her car, looking at her expectantly, and Kitty slides into her seat and they take off.

"You really should just let it go, Kitty," Anne says as the other two chatter in the back seat. "Boys will be boys."

Boys will be boys... but Kitty thought she had a man.

And now that she knows that truth she doesn't know what to do.

* * *

There is no love without forgiveness and there is no forgiveness without love. -Bryant H. McGill

* * *

The image is branded into her brain, but when the morning comes, there's a sort of peace in her she doesn't expect. She doesn't want to forgive him, but forgiveness is necessary if she wants to keep him. The peace stems from that; she knows she will forgive him for this, knows that she has no choice.

But at the same time, she doesn't want to be one of those women who overlook their husband's various infidelities, so the forgiveness will have to come with a price for him. For her, it's a slash to the heart and the knowledge she is about to do something that she never thought she would do. For him, it'll be the knowledge that it's either her or other women, because she doesn't want him to have both.

She dresses as prettily as she can and waits for him outside her house. The day is cold and snow lingers on the houses, but the storm the night before had been relatively tame, and so the conditions are not so bad. Red looks dapper in a handsome coat, and she manages a smile, because he's _perfect _even though she shouldn't think he is.

As good as the winter conditions are, they still aren't perfect for a date, but Kitty enjoys walking through the park with him, commenting on how pretty the snow-dusted trees look and watching other couples stroll down the path. Halfway through the walk, though, she falters. He's not saying anything, not that he usually does, but she wonders if he thinks she's boring or silly and that's why Lynn is better company. Then she remembers that Red and Lynn were in no way talking the night before, and she feels slightly better.

But still, it's with trepidation that she enters a diner with him for lunch. He's more silent than usual, she thinks, or is it just her frightened imagination playing games with her mind? Her smile is forced when he pulls out her chair, and she sinks into it, wondering if the night will be awkward, wondering when and how and _if _she should bring up last night.

Lunch is relatively smooth, though. He complains about the service and the food and she calms him down and it's the same as it always is, and the end of lunch, he ushers her into his car and takes her back home. And everything is so normal, she wants to laugh, even though the image is still playing in her head and preventing her from being happy.

He kisses her outside her house, a chaste kiss in deference to the fact they were in public and her father was in the house, and he smiles at her and she feels her heart flutter happily and her head frown in disapproval and she knows she'll have to bring up the subject, because she can't get any deeper in until she knows.

"I saw you at the movies last night."

He pauses, his hand on her back, giving off beautiful heat.

"I won't forgive this again."

He nods, doesn't say anything. They stare at each other for a moment and she smiles hesitantly, and he smiles sheepishly, and they both laugh nervously, and that's it. She kisses him once more and turns for the house, and it's over. Everything is back to normal, and it's done, she thinks.

He pulls her to him unexpectedly though and she starts, not used to him being in anyone's company any longer than he has to be. "I love you," he says quietly but forcefully. "I love _you._"

The implication isn't lost on her and she gives him a real smile and kisses him once more.

Her steps are lighter when she walks into the house.


	7. It's A Wonderful Life

Red's never fought with his mother the way he does when he says he's marrying Kitty. He's always thought his mother to be rational and loving, but that's not how her words come out. She is rude to him, asking if he knows what Kitty was up to while he was at war. Asking if he knows what kind of woman she is, and if she'll really make him happy, and if she'll love him the way he needs to be loved.

And Red doesn't know the answer to the first one, because it's not his business what she was doing when he was at war. He knows she promised to wait for him and she's so beautiful and sought after, but he didn't really stake any sort of claim on her before he left, and what she did will never be spoken of because they agreed on it.

But he does know the answers to the others.

Kitty is the sort of woman that will always welcome him home. She will love him regardless of how bad he is at showing it or how much he claims he doesn't need it. She will forgive him for the things he know he'll do, and for the times he'll break her heart, and she'll love him stronger and stronger.

Kitty is the bright spot to his days, and she always will be, always there to soften his harshness, cool his temper, smile at his frown. She'll be his better half and his anchor and his lighthouse on the way back home. She'll be his _home. _

But his mother doesn't understand this, and he doesn't care to explain it, doesn't know how to say all the things running through his head, doesn't know if he even should say them out loud since it all sounds so girly. So his only response is, "I'm marrying her and I'll spend the rest of my life with here," and he's so very sorry his mother never sees how beautiful that life with Kitty is.

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AN: I think I'll just end it here. Thanks for reading. I'm so sorry I've left this for so long. I meant to make this ten chapters but I haven't seen this show in forever and I've no desire to write anymore. But thanks for reading.


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